


I'll See You In The Future When We're Older

by IceSword46



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Friday Night Lights, Heroes (TV), Teen Wolf (TV), Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, No one may say Texas Forever in the FNL chapter but I'll sure as hell say it in the tags, and bonus keith with mentions of rebecca because i liked her bad cheques be damned, i can't think of a clever DW chapter tag so does "I get emotional bc Donna Noble a lot" work, my otp name for Sylar and Elle is Damaged Goods so naturally I included it in that chapter, plus bonus melissa and sheriff because everyone loves them in and out of the show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-27
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-10 07:31:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1156820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceSword46/pseuds/IceSword46
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five ficlets for five pairings from five shows.  Inspired by the song Laughter Lines by Bastille.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Scott and Lydia: 4 Years Later

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own any of the shows or characters written about, nor do I own the song Laughter Lines or anything else that if I said I did would get me in trouble.
> 
> Feel free to talk to me about these fandoms or too many others at scottmcstark.tumblr.com!

_You took me to your favorite place on Earth / to see the tree they cut down ten years from your birth / Our fingers traced in circles round its history / we brushed our hands right back in time through centuries_

Lydia never planned on coming back to Beacon Hills. She survived high school – and she means that in the most literal meaning of the phrase – and got the hell out of dodge. Everyone did, actually, scattering across the country. Both Deaton and Derek reminded them all that they’d be strongest together, which lead to a lot of heated arguments at whichever home they were meeting that night to discuss their futures, both as single units and as members of a pack. 

Scott traveled to Washington, wanting to experience a new environment but still be relatively close to home, and Isaac traveled the coast in the opposite direction, heading to Southern California. Stiles ended up in Chicago – _“I want to see a big city that actually gets snow for a change!”_ – was his response when the others expressed their disbelief while Kira goes to Florida - _"And I do not want that at all!"_ \- she had said after Stiles had made his announcement . Allison and Lydia both traveled to the East coast, though they were still several states away from each other. 

Lydia was the only one who never went home over summer breaks – her parents had moved out east to the cape after she graduated high school anyways, which made it easier – and as Allison later informed her, by junior year, no one really went home anymore, due to jobs or internships or general unease at wanting to return to their literal Hellmouth of a hometown. 

John and Melissa’s wedding seemed to be the big exception to this rule as _everyone_ came back for the celebration. They chose to get married during the winter break of everyone’s senior year on a surprisingly warm weekend out by the Pacific Ocean but it still meant the inevitable return to Beacon Hills first as it was the quickest route to where the wedding was being thrown. Lydia passed through town without stopping. 

* * * *

It’s still warm out even after the sun has set and she ends up sitting with Scott down on the beach sometime after the wedding reception, the moon high in the sky with the waves lapping at their bare feet. They were both still wearing their dress clothes though Lydia had long since lost her heels somewhere near the pavilion where the reception was held and Scott’s shirt was unbuttoned partially down his chest with his bowtie hanging loosely around his neck. It’s more distracting then Lydia would like to admit, especially considering the guilt she’s been feeling ever since she realized this was the first time she’d seen him face to face in almost four years.

“I think they wanted to wait until after we finished school to try and minimalize the strain it would potentially cause or lessen any possible freak outs over it happening,” he tells her. “I guess they just didn’t want to put it off any longer, which is kind of nice, when you think about it. And, whatever, I’ve already had more than enough strain and freak outs over getting grad school applications put together and sent in that this is freaking cake in comparison. I don’t know why they thought there’d be any sort of freak out; I’ve known this was inevitable since, like, summer after freshmen year.” He takes another pull from the bottle of wine he swiped. “Plus, Stiles and I have been secretly rooting for this since, like, freshmen year of high school.”

“We all have, Scott, let’s be honest. Okay, maybe not since freshmen year since I didn’t really know you but by junior year when I was fully immersed in all the supernatural drama that took over our lives, I was more invested in their relationship than my own.” Scott laughs. “I mean my relationship at that point was with a murderous werewolf, which, what was I thinking, by the way?” Shit, that was not the way she intended for that train of thought to end. “But, yeah, we were all fully on board their inevitable romance,” she adds on urgently. 

There’s an uncomfortable silence that Lydia refuses to let linger so she takes a drink from her own bottle and asks, “so you’re planning on going to grad school, too?”

“Yeah, for veterinary medicine. You’d know that if you ever talked to any of us anymore,” Scott responds, the frustration audible in his voice. _There it is_ , Lydia thinks bitterly, _it was going to be said eventually._ Scott put it more gently than any of the others would have, she knows, but it also hurts the most, having it come from him. She stands up and is brushing the sand off of her dress when Scott reaches up and grabs her wrist gently, saying, “wait, I’m sorry.” She looks down at him.

“It’s just, you went so far off the radar and part of me was wondering how you could just cut ties with all of it, all of us, so easily and the other part of me was wishing I could somehow do the same.” He’s still looking out at the ocean as he tells her this, his hand still wrapped around her wrist. It slides down her hand and his fingers tangle loosely, precariously with hers. 

He looks up at her as he continues, “Lydia you were the only one who always believed in me. Allison, Isaac, Deaton and Derek, even Stiles, all doubted me at some point, but you never did and I am more grateful for that then you realize. I guess I was just surprised that after all of that you went total radio silence. I know that after Allison, Stiles, and I “shut the doors” after sacrificing ourselves we all agreed we’d try to get as much a sense of normalcy in our lives as possible but you didn’t need to completely vanish in order to that, did you?" 

She pulls him to stand next to her. “I did, Scott. I spent so much time in the dark in that town after everything started happening. I spent half of sophomore year thinking I was legitimately going insane! Then even after I found out what I was I still could only do so much to help and for a while that just meant stumbling upon dead body after dead body and it was so hard, even after I got stronger and was able to stop things before they happened. I did it and I managed but it was so draining, Scott, and every time I thought of coming back I just thought about what Peter did to me, what Jennifer did to me, what all those dead bodies – what seeing _your_ dead bodies for _sixteen_ awful hours – did to me. I wasn’t strong enough to do that and I dealt with that guilt by completely severing the ties between me and Beacon Hills so I didn’t have to think about it. I’m not as strong as you, Scott.”

“Lydia, you were the strongest out of all of us!” Scott argues. “You may have gotten pulled into all this against your will by Peter just like I did, but you adapted so much quicker than I did. You were the one who figured out how to close the doors, you were the one who came up with the plan to get rid of Peter for good. Lydia, you did things none of us could have done.” 

She smiles weakly at him. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for always believing in me,” Scott tells her quietly in return. 

“I could say the same,” she whispers back. 

They’d been slowly getting closer and closer to one another and when he finally kisses her it feels like relief and comfort and warmth and hunger and that feeling stays with her as they manage to make their way back up towards Scott’s hotel room and into his bed.

* * * *

She wakes up late that morning, with his chest pressed against her back and his arm around her waist. It’s when she realizes she wants nothing more than to press up closer to him and maybe go for round three when all the feelings she had the night before are replaced with something much less pleasant: sadness.

She twists around to face him and he arches against her as he stretches. “I’m still going to grad school next summer,” she blurts out. 

He opens one eye. “Yes, good morning to you, too.”

“It’s just, even if something would’ve come out of this, and I’m not saying it would have, I’ll still have grad school somewhere and you’ll have it somewhere else and – “

He cuts her off with a kiss and his hands sliding down her back. He pauses and she’s worried for a second before he says, “first off, (a) thank you for immediately assuming I’m getting into grad school because I’m fucking terrified I’m not going to, and (b) you don’t already know where you’re going? I would’ve guessed you did, even if you haven’t gotten your inevitable yes back yet.”

“Well, Boston has a good program, but so does Seattle,” she tells him. His eyes widen and a smile grows on his face. “What?”

“Seattle has a pretty good vet med program, too,” he says, feigning nonchalance. 

She grins back at him and rolls on top of him to straddle him and leans down to press her lips against his.

“I’ll take that into consideration.” 


	2. Logan and Veronica: 3 Years Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five ficlets for five pairings from five shows. Inspired by the song Laughter Lines by Bastille.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read a VMars fic where Logan became a playwright so I borrowed that idea as the reason why Logan would be going to Boston - ignores any movie canon because we still haven't seen it as of when I wrote this

_As you held me down you said / I’ll see you in the future when we’re older / And we are full of stories to be told / Cross my heart and hope to die / I’ll see you with your laughter lines_

She’s visiting her father when it happens. She called him to tell her she won her first big case for her law firm and he insists she fly in for the weekend to celebrate properly. 

“Why can’t you come out here?” she had asked. 

“Veronica, I’m swamped with work at the office right now, I’m sure the firm will understand you wanting to take a weekend respite, you spent months prepping for that case.” She pinches the bridge of her nose but her hesitance gives Keith the chance to add, “I can’t remember the last time you were home.” 

“Okay, but can we make it next weekend? The other members of the firm are insisting I go out for celebratory drinks with them now that the case is over.” 

“I’ll see you next weekend.” 

“Bye, Dad.” 

* * * *

It turns out Keith pulled out all the stops for her weekend home, buying steaks to eat Friday night and a frozen lasagna for Saturday. He’s sautéing the vegetables to go along with the steak as he explains, “I was originally going to do reservations for Al’s but I figured you’d want to do something lower key and I’ve gotten to be a pretty good chef with Rebecca’s help. However, I can by no means make lasagna so you’ll have to settle for one that comes from a box.” 

“That’s a hardship I’ll try to endure,” she tells him sincerely. 

He points the spatula at her with a grin and tells her, “you’re such a trooper. I raised you well.” 

“Damn straight, pops,” she responds as she rummages through the fridge. “I don’t think the department would approve of their sheriff being such a lush, you’re out of drinks.” 

“That was what I forgot to get today!” Keith cries. “We had Alicia Fennel and her fiancé over for drinks and cards last night and it was more of the former rather than the latter.” 

She sighs dramatically, “how do you survive without me around?” 

“Rebecca helps,” Keith replies honestly and Veronica smiles. 

“I’m glad you two got back together. I’m sorry I made things so difficult on you two back in high school.” 

“Veronica you don’t need to apologize, you said all that and more during your toast at the wedding. _However,_ if you really want to make it up to me, you can go out and get a case of beer while I finish cooking these.” 

“You got it!” She salutes him as she walks out the door. 

* * * *

The liquor store she used to go to has rearranged since she’d last been home so she’s busy making her way through the aisles when she hears, “of all the gin joints in all of Neptune…” and she freezes in her tracks. 

She turns to face him. “Logan.” 

“Hey, Veronica.” 

“What’re you doing back here?” She asks as she continues to try to find the beer. 

“Trina finally got her breakout role. She’s got a pretty major part in this new movie opening at Sundance,” he tells her. “They just wrapped a few days ago and she insisted I come celebrate her accomplishment. She showed up when my first play opened in Chicago so I’m returning the gesture. We’re actually trying to be supportive siblings now. But silly sis ended up drinking the wine she had saved for this weekend with her new man and sent me to pick some more up.” 

“Wow, tell Trina I say congratulations.” Veronica tells him as she finally finds where they moved the beer to and grabs a case. “And congrats about your play, by the way, I saw that it got really good reviews and was supposed to transfer to Broadway –“

“But you didn’t actually _see_ it,” Logan interrupts. 

“It opened when I was deep in law school work,” she defends. 

“Must have been a busy two months,” Logan shoots back. She scowls. “Now that you’re done with law school maybe you’ll have the time to make out to my next one when it opens in – hold on, you never said why you’re here.” 

“You never asked,” she says. 

He gives her a trademark smirk and she tries to ignore the memories it brings back. “Veronica Mars,” – she tries to push away how her name falling from his lips makes her feel as well – “why are you back in glorious Neptune, California? I haven’t seen you since your dad’s wedding when you were still with Piz. How’s he doing, by the way?” 

“I won my first big case, dad wanted to celebrate with me in person. Piz is in Seattle, I think? We ended things towards the end of my first year of law school.” His gaze darkens at that and the feelings she’d been trying to push down are starting to fight back. She goes to make her way towards the front of the store. 

Logan trails after her, grabbing a bottle of merlot from a shelf as he says, “I’m single again, too, since you didn’t ask how my romantic life was going.” 

“Maybe I didn’t ask because I wasn’t interested,” she replies as she places the box on the counter. 

He slides up close behind her as she shows her ID and asks quietly, “you weren’t curious as to how I’ve been in the 3 years since we’ve seen each other last?” 

“Not particularly,” she responds and Jesus Christ has this guy never worked in retail before it’s not that hard to scan a fracking bar code. 

“You wound me, Mars,” Logan remarks. He throws a bill down on the counter and doesn’t wait for the change as he follows her out of the store. “So how long are you in town for?” 

“I fly back to Boston, Sunday. You?” 

“I fly back tomorrow afternoon, tech week starts Sunday but considering I wrote the play I get some leeway in terms of being able to get away for a night.” 

“I’m having the dance number for _One Night Only_ playing vividly in my head right now,” she remarks with a smirk. 

He gives her a smirk in return before he swoops in and presses his lips against hers. Her lips part against his instinctively and she gives in to the kiss because, yes, maybe she had missed him more than she wanted to admit and, yes, maybe she was subconsciously waiting to find out if Logan was seeing anyone and, yes, okay, she’s missed this and if they end up fucking against the back wall of the liquor store away from the parking lot well it’s not the worst thing the two of them have ever done. 

She’s smoothing her shirt back down and opening her car door when Logan says, “my play is previewing in Boston, by the way.” He winks at her and then he’s in his car and vanishing and she’s left with smile she can’t stop from forming on her face as she lets out a laugh. 


	3. Tim and Tyra: 5 Years Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five ficlets for five pairings from five shows. Inspired by the song Laughter Lines by Bastille

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't watched FNL in a while so I'm hoping these characterizations are as accurate as I'm thinking they are.  
> Did I give the other bartender that specific name for a very obvious reason? The answer is yes.

_Changes on our hands and on our faces, oh, oh / Memories are mapped out by the lines we’ll trace_

“What’s your poison, darlin’?” Tim Riggins drawls to the pretty redhead who has just sat down at the bar. 

“Good service!” comes a shout from the doorway before the woman can even start to answer and his eyes shoot up to follow brunette’s movement as she walks towards him.” 

“Tyra,” he says, almost breathlessly and he instinctively grabs a bottle of her favorite beer. 

“Hey, Tim,” she says with a smile. 

“What’re you doing back here?” Tim asks as she takes a drink from the bottle he set in front of her. 

“Came back for the twins’ birthday party tomorrow,” she tells him and he scoffs. 

“You came all the way back just for the twins’ fifth birthday?” 

“It’s their _golden birthday_ ,” Tyra explains with a wave of her hands. “I take it Billy hasn’t been making as big a deal about it as Mindy has. She’s determined to make it perfect and that involved a certain aunt’s appearance.” 

“Actually Billy may have mentioned it, I don’t remember, I’ve been kind of busy here,” Tim begins and when Tyra cocks an eyebrow for more information he adds, “I sort of manage the whole bar now. I do most of the behind the scenes work too, actually, but don’t tell Buddy I said that.” 

“Well, shit, Tim, nice work!” Tyra tells him with a pat on his arm. It stays there just a second longer than necessary. 

“So what are you doing tonight?” he asks casually. 

“Birthday prep. I swear I haven’t seen Mindy this worked up over something since their first Christmas. She hired a _clown_.” 

“I’m on supply runs tomorrow,” Tim tells her. “I have lists and everything.” 

“They’re going all out. It’s kind of cute, in a weird, overbearing way. Shame they’ll barely remember it considering they’re five. I can’t even imagine what’d happen if they were born on the sixteenth or the twenty-first.” She takes a long drink. 

“They really are surprisingly capable parents, even with twins thrown into the mix,” Tim responds as he opens his own drink. A bartender opens his mouth to say something but Tim cuts him off with a, “Taylor, I swear to God if you say a word I’ll cut your hours in half,” and the man shuts his mouth. 

“Look at you, all professional. Well, as professional as someone can be while drinking on the job. Are you really allowed to drink on the job?” 

“Not really but being manager has its perks, especially now that Buddy’s loosened the reigns a bit since I’ve shown how competent I am. Don’t show up hung over, I get to work on time, I’ve never actually drank on the job to be honest but I figured this warranted an exception.” 

“I’m touched I warrant rule-breaking, Tim,” Tyra replies dryly and he grins at her. 

“As I recall, we did a lot of rule breaking back in the day.” 

“All right, on that note I’m outta here,” she responds as she pushes up from the bar and takes a final drink from her beer before setting it down in front him Tim. She brings her hand to his cheek, almost fondly, before smacking him softly. She opens up her purse but he tells her it’s on the house. She tosses down a five with a “keep the change” and leaves the bar. He lets out a laugh and gets back to work, dumping out his beer before he does. 

* * * *

They finally have a chance to really talk again the next evening after the party’s finally over. Mindy and Billy exempt them from having to clean up so he takes her out to see his house, since she hadn’t seen it truly finished. 

She steps across the threshold and immediately says, “it’s incredible, Tim,” as she runs her hand down the wooden door frame. He gives her the grand tour, offering up details about how each room was built or stories from building it as they make their way through the house. “You have a chair lift,” she comments softly as they make their way up the stairs. It brings a nostalgic smile to her face. 

“Of course,” Tim replies, as though the idea of not having one never even crossed his mind – _Tyra knows it didn’t_. “There’s a ramp on the side of the porch, too, if you didn’t see it on our way in,” he adds. 

“I didn’t, I figured there was one though.” They end up standing in the doorway to his bedroom and Tyra remarks, “your grand tour ends in your bedroom? Does that work on all the girls?” 

“Tyra, this tour isn’t over yet, you haven’t even seen the best part,” he says, excitement shining brightly in his eyes. He makes his way quickly down the hall and stops at the top of the stairs to turn and actually beckons for her to follow him as he hurries down the stairs. 

She’s trying to catch up to him as she asks, “so what is the best part, then?” 

He doesn’t answer until he throws open the double doors leading out back. “This is,” he says proudly. 

She follows him gingerly out onto the back patio. “Tim,” is all she can seem to get herself to say. 

Matching strings of lights trail from opposite corners of the doorway and travel along the edge of the house and down the far corners of the patio. There’s an outdoor island on one end, made of stacked stone and connected to a grill. A stone bar takes up the other end and a circular stone fire pit sits between them in the center. He vanishes behind the bar and comes back with two beers and she’s distantly aware of taking it from his hands, but all she can focus on is the sunset blazing in the distance over the hills. 

" _Tim_ ,” she says again and he grins. “This is beautiful.” Tim’s grinning at her as brightly as he’s ever seen from him as he pulls up two chairs from around the fire pit and starts a flame. 

They sit with their drinks in silence and watch the rest of the sun vanish from the sky and Tyra’s reminded distantly of a sunset from times past on a plot of empty land. 

“What are you doing now?” Tim eventually asks. The lights have since automatically turned on as the stars began appearing in the sky and Tyra wonders if she’ll ever stop being amazed by it all. 

“I’m thinking of running for legislature,” she admits and he looks at her intently. “And I was kind of thinking of doing it back in Texas,” she adds. “I mean, it’s close to Mindy and my mom, and if Wendy Davis can make a difference for women in Texas I sure as hell can too, right? I’d be like the education system-equivalent of her.” 

“Are you going to wear pink sneakers while you do it, too?” Tim asks with a chuckle and, seeing the shock on her face says, “what, I saw her filibuster!” 

“Once upon a time Tim Riggins wouldn’t have even known how to say filibuster let alone know what it was,” Tyra says with a laugh. 

“Hey, I’m cultured! I saw _Gypsy_!” Tim cries in his defense. 

“You did not see _Gypsy_ ,” Tyra says incredulously. 

“In New York, with Street! I saw _Gypsy_ on Broadway!” Tyra shakes her head in disbelief. “So, you’re really thinking coming back to Dillon?” 

“I never said Dillon specifically, but, yeah, I keep getting pulled back to Texas. I guess I miss it more than I expected.” He’s smiling at her, eyes still shining in the darkness and she tacks on, “I swear to God, Tim, if you say ‘Texas forever’ I will–“ 

She looks over and sees him holding up his beer bottle for a cheers, in lieu of an answer. She smiles, in spite of herself, and clicks her bottle back. He doesn't say another word, but turns his gaze back to the endless, starry sky. Tyra does the same. 

So what if she comes back to Texas? It may not be such a bad idea. 


	4. Sylar and Elle: Some Time Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five ficlets for five pairings from five shows. Inspired by the song Laughter Lines by Bastille

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay this chapter has the potential to be the most out of character. I haven't really watched Heroes since it was taken off the air and even then I got caught up with other things and only ended up seeing bits and pieces of season 4. I may remember only liking Sylar and Elle as a pairing so much because of how much I liked Zachary and Kristen and seeing them acting together and that their relationship was much more toxic than I realize or remember. I reread up on Sylar and Elle's characters, as well as season 4 as a whole, while writing this chapter to get some sort of grasp on Sylar's arc through season 4 so I do hope it's not too off-base.

_Ashen in faces in cool breeze / Ashen in faces in cool breeze / Armed with stories you will leave / Armed with stories you will leave_

“Hey, Damaged Goods,” is the first thing Sylar hears once he come to. He barely has a chance to realize he can feel sand underneath his palms and bare feet before she comes walking into view wearing khaki capris and a blue and white striped shirt. 

“Elle?” He asks, voice quiet with disbelief. 

“Please tell me you were killed by a bolt of lightning, the irony there will keep me happy for an eternity, which coincidentally, is roughly how much time we have here.” 

He winces as he stands and says, “This guy named Samuel when I tried to stop him from breaking out of prison. We fought, I won, he lost. I’m starting to think we both lost. I’m assuming that’s why I’m seeing you?” 

“A duel to the death mustn’t be as rewarding when no one wins,” she remarks, making no effort to answer his question as she ambles down the beach to perch herself on the nearby rocks. 

“So I am in fact dead?” He asks as he hurries after her. 

“I’m guessing. Or, maybe, someone’s working right now to revive you and you’ll vanish in a few seconds; but, given your track record, I’m going to assume you’re here to stay.” 

He’s still trying to wrap his head around everything even as he defends, “maybe I’ve changed tracks.” He pauses and then asks, “and where is, here, exactly?” 

“The beach,” she replies curtly and he glowers at her. 

“Care to be a little more specific?” He says just as brusquely. 

“Nah, I think I’m going to go for a swim first,” she says. With that she stands up on the rock and jumps into the water without a splash. 

Once over a minute has gone by and Elle still hasn’t resurfaced Sylar starts to panic. He hurries into the water, just barely noticing that he isn’t making a splash either. He goes under and sees her lazily kicking through the water, a few feet below the surface. She apparently senses him because she rolls into her side and rights herself. “Awe, did I worry you? I’m touched,” she says. 

He surfaces abruptly, startled and it isn’t for several seconds that he realizes he isn’t breathing heavily like he immediately assumed he would be. He’s actually not breathing at all. Oh. 

Elle surfaces next to him silently and he falls over in surprise. 

Out of all of the questions flying through his mind, the first is, “okay what is with the no splashing thing?” 

“My best guess is that since we aren’t really physical beings anymore, I don’t think anyways, we don’t truly interact with our surroundings? We can feel them, yes, but don’t disrupt their existence, such as making waves.” 

“Oh.” She shrugs. “So I’m guessing the whole being able to speak underwater thing is because our sound waves don’t disrupt the water either?” 

“That’s what I figured. Plus, it makes me feel like Poseidon.” She sits down in the surf next to him. 

His next question is, “why the beach?” 

Elle is quiet for a long time before she answers. 

“I think I ended up at the place that held the most meaning to me. Kind of morbid since it's where I died, but considering I spent most of my life being psychologically tested on it didn’t have a whole lot of competition. I kissed Peter back at the Company but there was more than enough bad there to cancel it out and I slept with you at Stephen Canfield's house but I wasn't to eager to go back there, so I guess I ended up here.” 

“So why am I here?” 

“Ouch,” Elle deadpans, but shrugs anyway, “dunno.” 

“Maybe it’s because it’s where you convinced me to become a serial killer again after I decided to try and go straight, or at least where I finally decided to follow your suggestion,” Sylar suggests. 

“That’s morbid,” Elle replies and he laughs bitterly. 

“You’re a sociopath,” Sylar snaps back, “like it matters to you, anyways.” 

“You mattered to me!” Elle shouts back. “We had so much potential together, we –“

“Yeah, we could have been a regular supervillain Bonnie and Clyde,” Sylar remarks, standing up. 

“Who?” 

“No one important,” Sylar says quietly. “The truth is I eventually got better, became a hero¸ something I never could have become with you.” 

“And yet here we both are,” Elle says bluntly as she pushes herself up to stand beside him. “Who knows what would have become of us if you hadn’t, you know, killed me. Maybe you really could have changed.” 

“I did change!” Sylar yells at her harshly. 

“And maybe I could have changed, too,” Elle says quietly. 

He tries to cover the bark of laughter that escapes from his lips but fails and Elle glares at him. 

“What, Sylar, you’re the only sadist who can turn their life around?” She sounds genuinely hurt and Sylar is surprised by the twinge of guilt he feels. He also realizes that’s the first time she’s called him by his name since he showed up. 

“Gabriel,” he finds himself saying before he even realizes he’s doing it. 

“What?” 

“That’s my real name: Gabriel Grey.” He can see her eyes widen visibly at that, it’s almost comical, to be honest. 

There’s a long pause before she responds with, “Eleanor. Eleanor Zoe, actually.” 

He sticks out his hand and she hesitantly shakes it. 

“Sylar was the brand of my watch, when I used to restore clocks,” he tells her. 

“Why are you telling me this?” Elle asks him, her voice quiet and filled with confusion. 

He was wondering the same thing, actually, but he thinks he’s figured it out. 

“Seems like we’re going to be here a while, I’m seeing if I can maybe help you change.” 

She smiles at him and he finds himself genuinely smiling back. 


	5. The Doctor and Donna: Many Years Later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea for writing a reunion between the Doctor and Donna came to me because I could not figure out a good 5th pairing to write about and literally started going through all the different shows I watch in my head. This was the last one I wrote out of this little series.  
> Fun fact: I may or may not have cried a little while writing it. Writing about Donna Noble at 1:30 AM will do that to a person.

_I’ll see you in the future when we’re old / I’ll see you in the future when we’re old_

Donna Noble passes away when she is 87 years old in a small nursing home just outside of London. 

She meets a man who changes her world when she is 86 years old on a Thursday at a game of bingo. 

“You’re new,” she tells him bluntly from across their table and he looks up from his square. 

“Yes,” the man replies back just as gruffly before lowering his head again. 

She taps the table in front of his bingo square and says, “you’re in David’s seat. That’s where David sits.” 

He looks up again with a look of annoyance. “David got transferred to another wing of the building, now this is where I sit.” 

“David would have told me if he were getting transferred. David and I were very close,” she tells him matter-of-factly and he lets out an audible sigh of irritation. She makes a loud, offended scoff in return. 

“Maybe they wanted it to be a surprise to him. David got transferred to a rather nice wing, I was told.” 

“He still would’ve told me,” Donna muttered quietly but whatever she was planning on saying next was cut off by a loud, delighted, “bingo!” from another table and suddenly bingo was over for the day. 

The man stands up and Donna chides him with an, “uh, uh, uh, Not-David, I’m not done questioning you!” Not-David gives her an almost fond look and she looks at him suspiciously. He sits back down and folds his hands in front of him; rocking them towards her as though to say, “ask away.” 

“What’s your name, Not-David?” 

“Doc.” 

Donna lets out a noise of irritation. “What is your _real_ name, Not-David?” 

“I’ve been called Doc for as long as I can remember,” he tells her. 

“Why have you been called Doc?” 

“I suppose it’s because I help people.” 

“How did you help people?” She asks next, consciously using past-tense, unlike him, she notices. 

“I help people realize they were more than they believed.” 

“How inspirational,” she remarks sarcastically. “Alright then, how old are you? You don’t look old enough to necessitate being here and you can actually walk, unlike most the rest of us.” 

He leans towards her and says slyly, “twelve.” 

“Ha. Ha. _Doc_ ,” she says snidely. “I’m going to my room now; I don’t want to see you sitting in David’s seat at dinner tonight.” With that, she backs her wheelchair away from the table and wheels herself out of the room. 

* * * *

Naturally, he’s sitting in David’s seat at dinner. 

“I thought I said I didn’t want you sitting there,” she tells him. 

“I have a proposition for you,” he replies as he puts a spoonful of soup into his mouth. 

“Excuse me?!” 

“Not like that, so cheeky you are. I’d like to tell you part of a story, and if, once I’m done, you want to hear more, I get to stay in David’s seat and continue telling my story.” 

“And why would I agree to that?” 

“I’ve been told I provide a pretty good story.” 

She looks at him through narrowed eyes and mulls it over for a few moments before replying, “you have until the end of dinner.” 

He grins. “Once upon a time –“

“You’re _joking_ , right?” 

He smirks at her. “This story opens with a man and his granddaughter.” Donna can’t help the smile that appears on her face at that. He continues, “they live together go on wonderful adventures together.” 

“I am 86 years old. This story may have captured my attention 80 years ago but I am a grown woman,” Donna remarks. 

“Oi, don’t interrupt! I still have 45 minutes of dinner left to win you over,” says the man across the table. Donna rolls her eyes but lets him continue none-the-less. 

“Anyways,” he starts again dramatically, “their adventure starts because the granddaughter's school teachers discover she lives on a spaceship. When they show up on the ship, her grandfather is startled and causes the ship to take off with the two of them on board.” 

“A spaceship...” Doc nods. ”Science fiction? Your great story is science fiction?” 

“I think everyone needs an escape like science fiction in their lives,” he defends before starts talking again. 

Dinner ends and the man looks at Donna expectantly. She looks back at him indifferently for a minute before replying, “I’ll see you tomorrow, _Not-David_.” Not-David grins. 

* * * *

Over the next several months the man told Donna of stories that took place on planets all across the galaxy and though Donna wouldn’t admit it to him, they completely captivated her. 

“Now, after this, the story gets rather sad, so I’d understand if you didn’t want me to continue,” he tells her one summer night at dinner. 

“The story’s been rather sad countless times already, just continue!” Donna says more quickly then she would’ve liked. 

He smiles softly at her. “The next character the man meets on his journey is this lovely blonde girl in a shop when he saves from evil shop mannequins,” he begins and Donna laughs loudly. 

“I’m sorry, did you say, evil shop mannequins? You can’t be serious? I thought you said the story got sad.” 

“It gets better, and sadder, I promise,” the man says. 

She expresses her discontent several times over the next few weeks. 

“This man can travel wherever he wants and he can’t visit the blonde girl in Europe? That’s ridiculous.” 

“He can’t visit her because that’s the only way to keep her safe, though it’s more complicated than that. This happens later in the story, too, actually.” 

Donna frowns regardless. 

"The main character should appreciate the woman from the hospital more, she just helped save him and everyone else on that ship from flying into the sun!"

"Yes," Doc agrees, almost sheepishly. "How he treated her at the time wasn't one of his prouder moments."

"At least he realized it," Donna continued with a shrug as she took a drink of her hot cocoa. 

Doc nodded, suddenly lost in thought.

"Oi! What happens next?"

* * * *

He insists she has a molten lava volcano cake on her 87th birthday though he refuses to explain why. It’s good either way but it still confuses her. 

Donna falls ill shortly after Doc has finished telling her how the young dark-skinned woman walked the Earth to save the world and has just started the section of the story involving the beautiful redhead and her “sort of” boyfriend. 

After that Donna eats dinner in her own room yet the man still eats dinner with her, sitting beside her bed. 

“Are you allowed to eat dinner in here? I think that’s against the rules,” she tells him the first day. 

“I think they make exceptions for friends,” he answers. 

“Oh, okay,” she replies simply. 

“Besides, I have to finish my story! Where was I? Oh yes, the astronaut…”

Donna’s health continues to decline and by the time the main character, the redhead, and her boyfriend, meet the girl who turns out to be a killer robot she doesn’t eat dinner at all, instead getting her nutrients from an IV. 

“Doc, I don’t think I’m going to get to hear the end of your story,” she tells him only a few weeks later. 

“Now don’t say that, Donna, I’m almost done, and I’ve saved the best character for last,” Doc tells her. 

“Oh yeah? Why’s this character so special?” 

Doc takes her hand and she lets him. She wonders why he has tears in his eyes; this character can’t be that great. 

“Because this woman was one of the most special people the main character ever meets. She was wise and compassionate and important and loud. And she always kept the main character in his place.” 

“She sounds like a good woman,” Donna tells him. 

“She was,” Doc tells her, his voice breaking. “She was his best friend.” 

“So what's this character called?” 

Doc is silent for a long time before saying, “her _name_ was Donna Noble.” 

Donna gasps as memories come hurtling back at her at immeasurable speed. Adipose and Pompeii – that lava cake that witty bastard she bets he thinks he’s so clever – and the Oods and Midnight and the Library and bloody Agatha Christie! and Davros and – oh God, the young blonde and the dark-skinned woman, Rose and Martha – and finally, his name falls from her lips: “Doctor.” 

“Hello, Donna,” he says. 

She has so many things she could say to him, wants to say to him, but instead she blurts out, “you got old! You have gray hair!” 

“As do you, I might add.” 

“All those characters… those were other companions of yours, weren’t they?” The Doctor nods. 

“I was going to die today wasn’t I? That’s why you came back.” 

“Yes, and I knew you wouldn’t just let a strange old man into your room so I showed up early enough to be able to tell you my story, the whole story.” 

“I’m going to die soon, aren’t I?” Donna whispers. “You explained what would happen if I remembered you and I’m remembering you and you wouldn’t do that to me, Spaceman, not after all this time, you wouldn’t do that. I’m going to die before that happens, right?” 

“Your official time of death is 4:13 PM,” the Doctor tells her. 

She glances over at the clock and lets out a cry of dismay. “Doctor, that’s two minutes away there’s so much I need to say to you!” 

“Don’t say anything, Donna; just know that I am truly sorry for how your story ended. You truly were the most amazing woman in the universe.” 

“Thank you, Doctor. Thank you for everything, even if I couldn’t remember it until I was about to bloody keel over.” She lets out a watery laugh in spite of herself and wipes the tears from her eyes. 

“Thank you, Donna Noble.” 

“Can I hear it one last time, Spaceman? The TARDIS?” 

The Doctor smiles and pulls out the key. 

Donna grins widely. 

When the nurses find her not a minute later, it will have already been too late, but she’ll still have that grin upon her face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last of these little drabbles! I hope you enjoyed them!


End file.
